


Not Even Death

by Annerp



Series: To Change his fate [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Steve Rogers, Character Death, Everybody Dies, Heartbreak, M/M, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Shameless Smut, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, and they died happily ever after, completely unnecessary smut, frostshield - Freeform, i promise to make it all better, sorry for doing this, stoki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-22 16:25:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15585927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annerp/pseuds/Annerp
Summary: For close to 1700 years, Loki and Steve have managed to stay together, allowing nothing to tear them apart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still writing the Cut One Off story line, but this story has been rattling around in my head for a while now and I finally just had to get it out. This story will be told in 3 parts.

Not Even Death

 

Steve sits in his office/studio staring out the window at the Asgardian countryside. The green rolling fields, dotted with patches of wildflowers and the occasional clump of trees is beautiful, enough so to have inspired countless sketches and dozens of paintings. His blue eyes focus in on his favorite spot, just visible in the distance, only to someone who knows to look for it, a stand of trees positioned in such a way as to not have occurred naturally. 

The colorful leaves of the red maple trees; a gift from his husband so long ago. A piece of home, planted and arranged to provide privacy to the sitting area protected under their lush canopy. Hours, too many to count, have been spent under those leaves. Reading, talking, painting, drawing, making love. 

It is a place of peace used for quiet meditation and a place to feel the unimaginable grief that comes with outliving too many loved ones. Steve has no doubt that he will find himself surrounded by the crimson foliage before the day is over.

 

The steady shuffle of footsteps trodding back and forth outside the partially open office door has finally started to slow as the family, his family, have all said their goodbyes. And still Steve sits, thoughts focused on those beautiful leaves, even if his vision has begun to blur.

A soft creak on the wood floor accompanied by the groan of the door hinge, that he never got around to oiling just because it amused him with how much it annoyed Loki, draws him out of his thoughts.

"He asked for you."

Taking in a shuddery breath, Steve turns to look at his brother in law, the King of Asgard. His blonde hair now streaked through with silver, though much less than Steve's own, face only lightly lined with age, from worry across his brow and from joy spreading from the corners of his eyes. His expression is somber and he lightly claps Steve on the shoulder as he walks past, out into the hallway.

Eirik and Nicole both approach, pulling their father into a loose embrace, mindful not to hurt him. Their spouses stand nearby, offering silent support. Only Casian approaches, who never remarried after Eiren.....

Steve cuts that line of thought off and returns the man's embrace. Out of everyone that has filtered through his home over that past week, Steve thinks maybe only Casian fully understands what he is feeling in this moment.

It will be him, along with Eirik and Nicole and Thor that he leans on to get through the agonizing haze of the coming days and weeks. 

He withdraws and walks down the hallway to the library, pulling the door open as quietly as he can manage. Taking a moment, he allows himself to be ensconced in the smells of the room, leather and parchment and the ink that Loki favors, the barely there tang of magic, old and new. And in the center of it all, amidst the shelves filled to overflowing with thousands of books, the scrolls laid haphazardly across the giant desk, lovingly made by Steve from one of the maple trees that fell over the past thousand years, is the sole focus of his ever waking thoughts.

Near the window, with the curtains drawn, as they often have been over the past weeks, lays his husband, his one and only, his soulmate, the love of his life. Steve makes his way across the room, hand skimming along the top of a wing backed chair, across the surface of Loki's desk and over one of the many crowded book shelves to ground himself. 

Loki lays with his head slightly elevated and when he turns his gaze on Steve, he is glad to see they are still the clear vibrant green that he loves so much. The bed, not nearly as large or ornate as the one in their bedroom, was brought in at Loki's behest. He was adamant and unwilling to taint their most private of spaces with this.

"Come," Loki says, reaching a hand out in invitation, which Steve gently takes. "I would have you lay with me." 

There is a slight mischievous upturn at the corner of Loki's mouth, that even now, Loki cannot or will not suppress. And Steve's heart positively aches at the sight. He climbs on to the bed, mindful to not jostle the god too much. 

Carefully he curls his body into Loki's, allowing the god to wrap a thin arm around his shoulders. "I can't do this," he whispers in to Loki's chest.

He has to fight the brief impulse to pull away, to deny the sight of Loki's too shallow breathing, the thinness of his skin, the brittle quality of his bones. Loki can feel his body tense up and chuckles breathlessly.

"Do I really look that bad?"

"No! Not at all. I just... I don't.... We were supposed to have more time."

"Shhhh," Loki soothes as he reaches and runs his fingers through Steve's hair. "It's okay Steve."

Nodding against Loki's chest he asks, "is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?"

"Hmmmm," Loki hums with subdued amusement. "Always caring for me. Whatever shall you do with your free time?"

"Loki..."

"Just this. This is all I need."

They fall into silence as Steve listens to the beat of Loki's heart, no longer strong and steady, but still there. For now.

 

"Steve?"

The blonde's heart lurches painfully in his chest and he clutches just a little tighter to his love, no longer worried about hurting him.

"Steve, remember, my love, not even death can keep us apart."

Steve lets out a sob as the hand in his hair stills and he wonders just how he is supposed to go on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then Steve.

  
Steve is certain that the absolutely worst thing about living such a long life is watching his friends grow old and die, only to have it happen over and over again. Losing Peggy had been hard, but she had lived a full life. But each subsequent death was harder than the last. When Sam passed away quietly in his sleep at the age of 89, Loki sought out Bucky at the funeral with a half formed idea.

It was not simple and certainly not without great cost, but in the end Loki knew the price he had to pay was well worth it. And standing beside him, just within the impossibly large room framed with the largest most ornately carved wooden doors Bucky has ever seen, he has to agree. When Loki is done speaking; with a handshake, a prick of blood and a flash of green light, Bucky steps forward to make his own deal.

Steve would no doubt be upset, knowing that Bucky has traded away years of his life, but he cannot regret this decision and he hopes that at least this way, Steve will eventually get the chance to be angry with him, even if it doesn’t come for a very long time.

 

When they lose Bucky, it is all Loki can do to keep Steve going day after day. The gods own grief at losing him is breathtaking and he knows what he is feeling is only a fraction of what Steve must be feeling. Loki holds him, feeds him, baths him, consoles him, does everything he can, anything that his beloved husband needs. 

He does not mention the deal Bucky made 300 years prior, he can only hope that the man has been granted his place in Valhalla. He tries to remind Steve that Bucky had an extraordinarily long life for a human, due to the serum he was given while being held captive by Hydra. It takes time, but eventually he is able to break through the blondes grief and they are able to move forward.

It is hard for Steve to remain on Midgard after Bucky is gone and so they relocate to Asgard permanently. It is during this time that Loki plants Steve’s beloved maple trees, providing him with a small piece of home.

 

There is a bed that Loki imbued with magic to protect it from the elements and they lay together under the canopy of the maple trees, the air is warm, but a light breeze rustles through the leaves. The bed is soft and pliant under Steve’s bare skin, the sheets cool and crisp. He barely notices any of this as he concentrates on the feelings of intense pleasure he is receiving as Loki sucks and licks along the length of his cock. He has his hands gripped tightly in the inky black hair, the lone braid of silver wound around two of his fingers.

Loki’s left hand rests heavily on Steve’s stomach where he can feel Steve’s abdominal muscles flex and contract with each shift of his body. His right hand is beneath him, two fingers buried in Steve’s body, twisting and thrusting.

Steve pushes and pulls, guiding Loki’s head up and down his shaft and he knows the god loves the rough treatment as much as he does. When he pushes Loki’s head down and holds him there, the constriction of his throat as he swallows sends Steve over the edge, bucking and gasping. He immediately drags Loki up and kisses him, forcing his tongue into the gods mouth so he can taste himself. 

Shifting back to his knees, Loki pushes Steve’s legs up to his chest, then lines himself up and pushes in with one thrust. Its almost too much for Steve, his body over sensitized already, but it is also not enough. His desire for his husband is completely undiminished even after hundreds of years together. 

Loki rocks his body forward, driving hard into Steve, over and over. The blonde keeps one hand on his knee to help keep his legs pulled back and the other he works between their bodies to stroke his already re awakened cock. Steve knows he won’t last long with Loki fucking him this way and the god knows it too. He grins triumphantly when he feels Steve’s warm spend splatter between them, before allowing himself to focus solely on taking his own pleasure. He pulls out and flips Steve over, pulling his hips up and back before sliding back in. 

Steve knows what Loki wants and he does his best to fuck back against him, trying to think through the pleasure filled haze of his mind. He stills when Loki grips his hips hard enough to bruise and allows the god to use his body until he feels the warm spurt of Loki’s seed deep within.

When Loki pulls out, Steve collapses forward on to his stomach and the god flops down beside him, both sated and happy.

It is 15 minutes later when Loki wakes from a light doze. He notes that Steve has used his magic to replace what he is sure must have been very dirty sheets beneath them and is now laying on his side idly playing with the braid in his hair. 

The blonde grins when he feels Loki stir and moves in closer to wrap his arms around the slimmer man.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you too Steve.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love it here? Our secret little hide away.”

Loki smiles, “yes, you have. But I will never tire of hearing how I have pleased you by creating it.”

“I think, no matter where we travel, or how long we are away, I will always love coming back here, under the trees, just you and I.”

 

Two hundred years is a long time. Long enough for several generations of humans to have been born and to have died. And it is an eternity for Steve Rogers. An eternity spent alone, without his love. 

His family is there. A steady stream of visitors all aiming to keep him from falling too far into the deep depression that has threatened to overwhelm him since Loki died. Steve reads, he sketches, he talks with his family. He shuffles through his days, mustering the strength to live, up until he cannot. On those days he finds himself laying on the bed in the center of those beautiful maple trees. He watches the shadows shift and flicker with the breeze. He feels close to Loki here. Closer even than he would feel if he was able to make himself set foot inside the gods library.

As the days move on, he spends more and more time amongst the trees, unable to muster the will to be anywhere else. His children can see it. Thor can see it. Steve’s time is drawing to an end and so they do their best to make him comfortable, only bringing him back to the house at night to keep his frail body out of the cold. When his body becomes too weak to leave the house, Thor sets up a bed inside his office so he can look out the window at the stand of trees with the crimson leafs.

 

It is Casian who comes to bring Steve his morning meaI. He is somehow not surprised to find the bed empty and his gaze automatically goes to the window, focusing on those trees. It is there that Casian finds Steve, having taken his final breath, Loki’s name on his lips.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a companion piece over in The First of Many. Chapter 23 Valhalla.

 

Awareness comes slowly, like the rising of the sun, its rays spreading out, warming and illuminating everywhere they reach. The soft sigh of oxygen as it moves through airways, the muted thump thump, thump thump beating inside a chest, the low whoosh of blood carried through veins; unmistakable signs of life that were not there moments before.

He stirs, aware of his breathing, his heart beating strong and true, of the lack of aches in his joints, of the hard stone he is sitting on, but of little else. It takes some effort to find the connection between mind and body, to command the flesh to follow the will of the mind.

His body is not yet ready for the strain of standing and so he sits, becoming more aware by the minute of the sharp edges of the stone beneath him. They dig and scrape and poke at his skin, which is rapidly becoming hyper sensitive. It is too much, too hard, too painful. He remembers that this was once his life, not too long ago, too much, too hard, too painful. And looking around, he finds that he is alone. And this was also his life. Before.

He does not want this. Death was supposed to take all this away and he is willing to admit that along with everything else, he feels cheated. Its not that he wanted to die, he just no longer had the energy to live. 

Willing his body to obey him, he stands and turns in a slow circle, noting a set of large ornate wood doors, seemingly standing free with no visible hinges or frame. There is nothing else, just an expanse of gray, the sky, blending seamlessly into the ground and the stone he had been sitting on. 

There is no choice to be made and so he approaches the door and reaches his hand out to grasp the handle. For just a moment, he marvels at his hand, just now noticing the vanished signs of age. He takes several breaths before pushing down the latch and opening the door. And behind that door is a room.

And in that room……

“Eiren?”

The blonde woman turns with a bright smile to face her father. She rushes to him and folds him into a fierce hug. “Father.”

Steve holds his daughter tight, not trying to stop the tears of joy at seeing her again. 

Reluctantly, Steve eventually releases her, “what is this place?”

“Valhalla,” she responds with a grin.

“Woulda thought it’d be a little nicer than this,” he laughs, voice tight with tension.

The corners of her mouth turns up as she tries to suppress a grin and for just a moment, she reminds him so much of Loki it hurts.

“Did you know? That I would be here? Now?”

“You are my father, of course I would know.”

She continues at her fathers unamused look, “those of blood always know.”

Steve hums noncommittally at the vague answer, “but I thought Valhalla was for those killed in battle?”

Eiren takes a moment to consider her answer. “Those who die honorably in battle, yes. But in special cases, very rare cases,” she emphasizes, “exceptions can be made.”

“What now?”

Eiren gestures towards a door that Steve is certain was not there before. Once again, there is no choice to be made and so he strides over and opens it. He flinches at the bright sunlight that pours through the door from an impossibly blue sky. When his eyes have adjusted, he steps through with Eiren right behind him.

There are rolling hills for as far as the eye can see. Lush and green, the land is dotted with rocks and trees and the air is crisp and clean. Eiren begins to walk down the sole path leading away from the door and Steve steps beside her. 

“How is Casian,” she asks after her husband.

“He waits,” Steve says simply.

“As I wait for him.” She knows it is selfish, but she cannot help but be pleased to know that Casian has not remarried. “May he die well, but not before his time.” This is her wish, to be reunited with her love.

They walk and Steve does his best to answer the numerous questions Eiren has for him. It doesn’t occur to him that she is distracting him until they round a bend and she grows quiet, stopping on the path. Steve is several steps ahead of her by the time he realizes she has fallen behind. He starts to turn around, but something catches his eye. A low fence. And on the other side of it; goats. Curious, he walks forward towards the fence and see’s a hut, small and primitive.

He stops with his hand resting on the fence. He hears Eiren step beside him and looks to her for an explanation. All he gets is a grin and a jerk of her chin in the direction of the hut. 

And he see’s……“Bucky?”

Bucky is some fifty yards away and begins to jog over, a huge grin on his face. Steve scrambles over the fence and the two men embrace. Steve knows Bucky died during a raid on a slaving ring on Vanaheim. If anyone’s death could be considered honorable, it would have been Bucky’s. He saved countless lives that day, many of them children.

Immediately, Bucky starts to tell his friend all about his life in Valhalla. His hut, his little farm and his goats. He does not tell Steve about the deal he made, to trade part of his remaining life to guarantee he would be granted access to Valhalla. He figures that can wait. 

“How did you end up with a hut and goats. I never would have thought of you as a farmer,” Steve teases.

“Funny,” Bucky deadpans. “Valhalla is magic Stevie. Your home, how you live, that’s a choice here. And this? Back before, when, you know,” he gestures to his head, “Hydra sent me on this mission. And there was this little village and it was just so peaceful. So different from what we knew….” He trails off, looking over his little piece of Valhalla with a smile.

When Bucky starts to walk back towards the hut, Steve automatically follows without question. Eiren jumps over the fence and catches up to walk beside her father. And again he doesn’t notice the distraction. Even when Bucky bypasses the hut and keeps on walking. Right up until he stops and looks out over the land. 

They are standing on a small hill top. And it is beautiful. The grasses sway in the gentle breeze, light catching on the different angles of the blades. There are wild flowers standing in patches amongst the grass and there is a structure, a cabin. One that Steve recognizes from the Colorado mountains.

He can feel his heart start to pound in his chest and he swings his head to look between Bucky and Eiren. His eyes questioning.

“Go,” Bucky tells him. 

And Steve doesn’t wait for anything else. He sets off at a run.

 _Please_  

_Please_

He barely slows to throw open the door.

“Loki!” He pants, doubled over, as he tries to slow his breathing. 

Nothing. 

There is nothing. Just an empty cabin and Steve’s chest aches with crushing disappointment. The cabin is small and just as he remembers it, but he remembers so much, too much. In the kitchen he runs his hand over the damaged countertop that he never bothered to fix. He lays on the bed, pulling what would have been Loki’s pillow in to his chest. He can smell the gods scent on it and he jumps up, stumbling for the window to jerk it open and get some fresh air.

There.

In the distance, a patch of red. Steve squints his eyes and focuses on the crimson leaves. The ones that would look perfectly at home on Midgard or on his little patch of land on Asgard.

_Please_

At the top of the hill, Eiren and Bucky watch Steve run outside and directly towards his beloved maple trees. 

_Please_

He stops just outside the stand of trees, afraid to go any further and duck between the leaves.

_Please_

But there really is no choice. He squeezes his eyes shut, grits his teeth and ducks under the low hanging branches, under the thick canopy and into the open space beneath that made up his and Loki’s private little hideaway. He doesn’t need to see. He knows every one of these branches by heart.

_Please_

When he opens his eyes, everything is just as he remembers. Every detail. Including the bed, still perfectly protected from the elements. And lounging lazily on it, his husband, his one and only, his soulmate, the love of his life. His Loki.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of notes
> 
> Bucky traded years of his life to guarantee that he would be allowed to die an honorable death and be granted entry into valhalla
> 
> Loki made a deal for both him and Steve. He traded years for himself, which is why he died 200 years sooner than expected. And he traded services for Steve's entry. Which I may explore at some point in the first of many, but I dont have any immediate plans for that.


End file.
